Home for the holidays

There have been a handful or two of people in one of my circles or another that have had babies in the past few weeks. Big, normal, full-term, healthy, just-wanna-squeeze-them babies. Everyone is home and happy.

I'm not going to lie - everytime I hear about or see someone pregnant I always wish them a "long boring pregnancy" and a "fat, healthy baby". There's really nothing better than that. And I also have a moment of weird nervousness/butterflies/catch my breath that I never really thought I'd have.

I'm so crazy happy that all these families are home, that they're posting pictures of baby. Something else I didn't expect was that when I saw them talking about having baby home for Christmas it would get me. All of the sudden, it gets to me. I guess maybe three years later, things have quieted down just enough that I'm finally having a chance to process some stuff? Or finally letting myself process some stuff?

We spent our first Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years, and Parker's Valentine's Day in the hospital. In two different hospitals. That gets to me. There's some anger, some guilt and dash of feeling cheated and a pinch of mourning all balled up into that feeling in my stomach right now that has made me cry a few times in the past few weeks.

So I'm processing (you can't get around it, you gotta get through it). I'm so overjoyed for all these families and all these little babies and l-o-v-e seeing all the new pictures. I can't wait to get to meet a few of them and get my hands on them. And with my dynamic duo, I'm remembering every minute of being home for Christmas and getting to do all the special stuff 3-year-olds should do at Christmas. Because we're home.